Fast Buck

Rico floundered back to the bank and returned with the case and the Winchester. Baird had got Hater into the boat and held the boat steady while Rico got in. Then he climbed in himself, took the paddle and pushed off, turning the nose of the boat up stream.

He paddled hard for some minutes, sending the boat along at a good pace, keeping close to the tangled shrub and bush that made an impenetrable screen along the bank. After he had gone some hundred yards, he steered the boat under the branches of an overhanging tree, and drew up by the bank.

The boat was well hidden from the opposite bank. They could hear the barking of dogs dangerously close now, and Rico looked appealingly at Baird.

‘Hadn’t we bet er get on?’ he whispered. ‘Those dogs wil find us!’

‘Shut up!’ Baird said. ‘Give me the case.’

Rico pushed the suitcase to him, and Baird opened it and took out the first-aid box. He carefully washed his torn wrist in the river water and strapped it up. Then he took off his wet jacket and washed the scratches on his face, dabbing iodine on them after he had dried his face on a towel. He put away the first-aid box and took out the gun-cleaning outfit He hurriedly cleaned the Colt and reloaded it. Then he cleaned the Winchester and added four more slugs to the magazine.

‘That’s bet er,’ he mut ered, laying the Winchester in the bot om of the boat where he could get at it quickly. ‘Phew! I don’t want to meet any more damned dogs.’ He glanced over at Rico. ‘Keep an eye on Hater. If he comes to the surface, he may try to overturn the boat. Hit him over the head if he looks like making trouble.’

Rico gulped. He fingered the .38 which he wasn’t sure how to use, and looked doubtfully at the still body lying at his feet.

‘There they are,’ Baird whispered suddenly, and pointed.

Rico looked in the direction. He caught a glimpse of three guards standing half hidden by the bush on the opposite side of the river, looking to right and left. Each man carried a Thompson riot gun, and they all looked as if they could use the gun. They were talking, and one of them pointed down stream.

Then a man’s voice called out so close to the hidden boat that Baird and Rico started violently and grabbed at their guns.

‘This is the way they came,’ the man shouted. They couldn’t see him as he was on the same side of the river as they were, but the other guards could see him. ‘They’ve kil ed Ben. The bastards have got a rifle.’

‘Think they’ve got a boat?’ one of the guards cal ed back.

‘Don’t see how, unless they’re get ing outside help. It’s my bet they’ve swum over to your side.’

‘The dogs won’t be long,’ the guard on the far side of the river said. ‘We’l soon pick up their scent.

Have you checked the old cabin? Maybe some of them have holed up there.’

‘Jed’s doing that. I’m staying with Ben until they get a stretcher down to him.’

The three guards waved and moved off down stream.

‘We stay right here,’ Baird whispered. ‘The dogs can’t get through the bush, and as long as we’re on the water they won’t get our scent. We’l give them a couple of hours to cool off, then we’l try and make a break.’

He took off his wet trousers, and sitting naked in the bottom of the boat, dried himself carefully. He hung the jacket and trousers over a branch to dry, then uncorked a bottle of whisky and took a couple of shots.

Rico sat motionless, staring with frightened eyes at the opposite bank. He could hear the distant barking of dogs and men shouting. There was a lot of activity going on in the bush.

‘Here, have some of this,’ Baird said, offering him the bottle.

Rico took a long drink. The spirit helped him a little, but he still couldn’t control his trembling.

‘Think we’l get out of this?’ he asked suddenly.

‘Yeah,’ Baird said, ‘I guess so. They won’t waste too much time here. They’ve got fifty convicts to round up.’

He made himself as comfortable as he could on a blanket and took another drink.

‘Wish I could smoke,’ he said, half to himself, ‘but the dogs might smell it.’ He glanced at Hater. ‘Is he okay?’

Rico could see Hater’s thin chest moving as he breathed.

‘He’s stil breathing.’

‘That’s something,’ Baird said, and grinned sourly. ‘He must have a skul like granite.’

‘He’s crazy,’ Rico said uneasily. ‘There’s something about his face…’

‘You should take a look at yourself,’ Baird said. ‘You look a little nuts, too. Maybe I do. That dog nearly had me.’

Rico shivered.

‘You’ve been a big help,’ Baird went on. ‘I must have been soft in the head to have picked on you for a caper like this. If you’d hit the dredge with your first shot they wouldn’t have known where to look for us. We’d been the hel out of this by now.’

Rico didn’t say anything. He was thinking he must have been soft in the head to have got mixed up with Baird in the first place.

‘Maybe we’d bet er take it in turns to sleep,’ Baird said, yawning. ‘Hel ! My wrist hurts. We may have to paddle all night. I’l take the first nap. Keep your eye on Hater. Wake me if he shows any sign of coming to the surface.’